


Ven Y Dámelo (Come and Give it to Me)

by orphan_account



Category: Big Time Rush RPF
Genre: Explicit Language, Frottage, Language Kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, bottom!Kendall, gratuitous use of the word 'papi', top!Carlos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-16
Updated: 2011-12-16
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Not really,” Kendall says, shrugging his shoulders as much as his position allows. “Just have a thing for you speaking Spanish.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ven Y Dámelo (Come and Give it to Me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [likezoinxman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likezoinxman/gifts).



Kendall’s flushed and sweaty, not that that’s anything new, especially when they’re midway through a show. His gray shirt is darkened and sticking to his body every which way he moves, the flannel he has over it soaked with sweat, too.

They have a quick break to change shirts and as soon as Kendall gets his up and over his head, Carlos is sidled up next to him, cheeks pink from constant singing and dancing. He looks up at Kendall, loving the way Kendall’s all red, hair matted down to his forehead, even beneath the cap he’s wearing. His eyes land on Kendall’s lips and they quickly flicker back up to Kendall’s eyes, and he raises up a little, enough so that he can reach Kendall’s ear to whisper.

And really, Kendall has no idea what Carlos just said, hates that he doesn’t speak Spanish, but it’s all in the way Carlos said it, all low and husky, lips brushing against the shell of his ear, and seriously? Kendall can’t deal with that, not when he has to get back out on that stage in less than a minute and perform in front of a bunch of children and parents.

His dick is already stirring uncomfortably in the tight confines of his jeans, Carlos’ voice playing over and over in his head. Carlos looks damn proud of himself, walking away with a smirk plastered to his lips, going over to his own pile of clothes so he can change quick.

Kendall wants to do something, say something, but they’re being called back to the stage and all he can do is breathe slow and hope his half-hard dick will go away.

\--

Bus nights are terrible, Kendall thinks, lying on his back and staring up at the bunk above him. Bus nights mean being in tight quarters, which means there’s no way for him to get any possible relief without someone hearing. Add to the fact that his bunk is barely big enough for him, let alone another person. He sighs and rolls over onto his side for what feels like the hundredth time, shoving his face into his pillow as he tries to get Carlos’ voice out of his head.

It doesn’t work.

When he finally manges to fall asleep, his dreams are filled with Carlos, with Carlos’ voice, his hands, his skin, his fucking voice, and Kendall wakes up in the middle of the night, cock so hard it hurts. He barely manages to get his hand around himself before he’s coming, biting his bottom lip so hard he’s sure he draws blood.

Carlos is such an asshole, he thinks, wiping his hand off on his blanket.

It’s a little easier for him to sleep after that, though Carlos’ words still echo through his head.

\--

Kendall wakes up the next morning to find everyone else already awake. Carlos is cleaning up the mess the others made while eating, but when he sees Kendall, he momentarily stops what he’s doing and looks over at Kendall with a bright smile, eyes dazzling when Kendall narrows his eyes at him.

“How’d you sleep?” Carlos asks, failing to hide his amusement like he knows what Kendall dreamt about, that Kendall woke up hard in the middle of the night.

“Lovely,” Kendall replies, biting and sarcastic.

James and Logan’s attention darts between them, and through a silent agreement, they both disappear off to their bunks, leaving Kendall and Carlos alone.

“Come on, papi, don’t be like that,” Carlos says, voice dropping low.

“I’m not being like anything, Carlitos,” Kendall says, sighing, but then he turns on the charm and sidles up behind Carlos, wrapping his arms around Carlos’ waist and rolling his hips against Carlos’ ass.

Carlos barely suppresses the shudder that runs through him, nearly giving in when Kendall’s lips press against the skin just below his ear. “Later, papi,” Carlos manages to say, breathing hard as he snakes out of Kendall’s hold.

Later absolutely sucks, Kendall decides. They’ve got interviews and meet and greets and soundcheck and a show, and later’s just too far away. He can’t really do anything about it, though, so later it’ll have to be.

\--

There’s a break between interviews and Kendall takes that time to relax, bored with the questions that they’ve all answered at least a hundred times. He loves the press they’re receiving, but the repetition of questions is incredibly mind-numbing. It comes with the territory, he supposes, since they’re still just taking off and the same questions are going to be asked over and over until everyone finally knows who they are.

Carlos gets up and walks behind him, tips of his fingers burning through the layers of clothes Kendall's wearing as he walks by, humming low under his breath. It's something Kendall can't make out, something he's not sure he's ever heard before, and when Carlos passes by again, he's still humming, his hand settling at the small of Kendall's back before dipping low, ghosting over the swell of his ass as he leans in to whisper-sing the words into Kendall's ear, only Kendall doesn't understand it all because it's Spanish, again, voice deep and rich in a way Kendall's coming to absolutely hate.

And the thing is, Kendall's not a complete idiot when it comes to Spanish. He knows a few things here and there, all of it picked up from the time he spends around Carlos and his family when they're visiting. It's just - when it slips from Carlos' lips like that, he can't bring himself to focus on the actual words, only the way they sound, the way Carlos' lips brush against his ear, the way Carlos' breath tickles across his skin.

He's fairly certain it might have something to do with his ass, what with the way Carlos' hand had slipped down a bit to graze against it, enough for it to look purely accidental, but he just doesn't know what. And it's going to drive him crazy not knowing.

Or, crazier, because he doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. It’s not like he can make his body suddenly stop responding to Carlos’ touch or Carlos’ voice. It’s just - it’ll never happen. He reacts to Carlos the way ice reacts to heat: melting instantly.

Carlos has that same look of faux innocence on his face as he walks away, and all Kendall can do is stand there and not stomp his foot like a child, even though he wants to because this shit isn’t fair. Carlos can’t just do that, can’t just get him all wound up and not do anything about it.

Just as he’s trying to tamp down the flush that’s creeping over his face, they’re being herded together for their next interview and Carlos is smiling at him as though that incident didn’t occur, even though the stirring low in his belly says otherwise.

\--

From the interview, they’re herded onto stage for soundcheck. It goes quick enough, but then they’re being shuffled off to the meet and greet and Kendall’s more than grateful for the distraction it provides. He loves meeting fans, loves seeing familiar faces time and time again, loves watching Carlos interact with all the small children that come up to them.

That’s something that always brings a smile to his face: Carlos crouching down and scooping up the children into a tight hug. He’s always hit with the thought of how amazing of a dad Carlos is going to be. The constant flow of fans coming through doesn’t give him much time to dwell on that, which he’s also grateful for, because if he had the time to dwell, he’d imagine a whole life for him and Carlos, and well, he thinks it’s kind of girly, and he is all man, dammit.

After the meet and greet, they have a bit of downtime, barely, and it’s used to prepare for the show, changing clothes, ensuring their voices are warmed up properly, and general dicking around. Kendall makes sure to keep his distance from Carlos, though Carlos keeps giving Kendall these looks, a quirked eyebrow as his tongue runs along his bottom lip, and Kendall’s not sure what’s worse: that damn look or Carlos’ sudden fascination with speaking to him all low and husky in Spanish.

It’s a relief when they’re given the signal that it’s almost time for them to take the stage, all of their focuses quickly changing to getting psyched up for the show.

\--

It’s another hot night, made even hotter by the constant moving, and Kendall’s dripping sweat after the second song. He decides he needs to quit wearing so many layers, especially since it only contributes to the already ridiculous way he perspires.

They’re so on tonight and the crowd’s feedback pushes them harder, has them all fired up, feeding off their energy. This - this is what they live for, the near deafening screams that amp them up, get their blood pumping as they give it all they’ve got, night after night.

When the show winds down and they leave the stage to the roar of the crowd, they’re hyped up on adrenaline, thrumming where they stand as they towel off the sweat. Kendall, though, he’s got an extra something coursing through him, his eyes stuck on the way Carlos’ throat works as he swallows down a bottle of water, and his eyes follow the paths the rivulets of sweat leave as they trail down his flushed skin.

Kendall’s grateful it’s a hotel night, and judging from the looks Carlos is sending his way, he’s feeling the same thing.

\--

They don’t stick around too long after they’re done performing, gathering their things quickly as they’re guided to the bus. It’s a short trip to the hotel they’re staying at, and they’re checked in almost immediately after arriving. The four of them plus Dustin and Ranel crowd into an elevator, taking it up to their floor where Ranel shells out the keycards, giving them the time of tomorrow’s bus call.

Kendall’s itchy, feels too tight in his own skin, seconds away from telling them all to hurry and leave so he and Carlos can get into their room already because he’s been thrumming with this burning arousal for so long he’s about to burst at the seams.

As though the others can sense it, they’re quick to say their goodnights and quickly disappear down the hall, slipping into their own hotel rooms. Kendall’s relieved exhalation is met with a laugh from Carlos, and it’s all Kendall can do not to pin Carlos to the door then and there.

Instead, he hitches his backpack higher on his shoulder and slips the keycard into the slot, opening the door when the light goes green.

Carlos slips in past him, dragging his hand across Kendall’s stomach.

Kendall doesn’t hold back, doesn’t need to, shutting the door with a resounding click and wrapping his hand around Carlos’ wrist, pulling him in and pushing him back against the door. He cradles Carlos’ face, soft, tender, his lips forceful and demanding when they meet Carlos’.

Carlos lets himself be dragged into it, lets Kendall kiss him all rough and dirty, until his lungs are burning with the need to breathe. He pushes a hand against Kendall’s chest, puts enough space between them so he can maneuver his way out, dodging to the side when Kendall tries to pull him back in.

Kendall’s a little more than disgruntled at the way Carlos moves away from him, considering the fact that Carlos has been teasing him for what feels like years, and dammit, he’s earned this, putting up with Carlos’ teasing and not slamming him against the nearest available surface and fucking his brains out. It takes a lot of willpower, okay?

“S’wrong, papi?” Carlos asks, falling back on one of the beds, holding himself up on his forearms, legs splaying open.

“Absolutely nothing,” Kendall says, sauntering forward, letting his backpack slide down his arm to the floor near the empty bed.  
He places a knee on the bed between Carlos’ legs, but doesn’t move forward, fingers going to the buttons of his shirt. Each one is unbuttoned slower than the last, and when the final one is unbuttoned and the sides fall open, Carlos sits up and pushes it down his arms, trying to hurry it along.

Kendall pushes Carlos back down, says, “Patience,” as he reaches for the hem of his t-shirt and tugs it up and over his head. He can’t help but flush at the way Carlos’ eyes rake over his exposed chest and stomach, the look so full of heat and amazement. It’s a heady rush, an intense reminder that no matter how many times they do this, it feels like they’re seeing each other like this for the first time.

Carlos surges up, says, “I’ll show you patience,” as he flips them over, now straddling Kendall’s waist. He smirks at Kendall’s indignant huff, then slowly licks his lips, leaning down until they’re pressed against the skin of Kendall’s neck.

Kendall hisses as Carlos nips at the sensitive skin, drawing it between his teeth before he lets it go, soothing it with the flat of his tongue a second later.

“This uh - this still seems pretty slow to me,” Kendall says, trying for a smirk but instead ends with his mouth open in a perfect circle when Carlos sucks at his adam’s apple.

Carlos’ movements are quick after that, but it still feels agonizingly slow, lips, tongue, and teeth working over every inch of Kendall’s stomach as he moves back, stopping when he gets to the waistband of Kendall’s jeans. Then it’s all slow, slow movements of his tongue over the bones of Kendall’s hips, sucking at the hollowed skin stretched over them.

Kendall sucks in a breath when Carlos’ hand molds to the shape of his cock, thrusting up against the soso good touch, but it’s gone before he can even enjoy it. He doesn’t complain, can’t, won’t, not when Carlos’ bottom lip is pulled between his teeth and he’s thumbing open Kendall’s jeans and pulling down the zipper, the sound so loud in the quiet of the room.

“Lift,” Carlos says, voice rough and low.

Kendall does as he’s told, lifting his hips so Carlos can pull off his jeans and boxers in one quick move. It feels good, better, the tight fabric of Kendall’s jeans no longer restricting the heavy throb of his cock.

Carlos doesn’t waste another moment, tossing a quick smirk up at Kendall before fitting his hands to the grooves of Kendall’s hips and licking a thick stripe up the underside of Kendall’s dick, tonguing at the nerves below the head.

Kendall heaves out a breathy, “Fuck,” hips hitching up at the drag of Carlos’ tongue, and it’s like all the air leaves his lungs as Carlos fits his lips around the head and sucks, cheeks hollowed obscenely as his tongue flits back and forth over the slit.

“Holy fuck,” Kendall gasps, hands clenched tightly in the sheet below him, trying his damnedest not to thrust up into the wet warmth of Carlos’ mouth.

Carlos slides his lips down Kendall’s cock, his hand curling tightly around the base, stroking up to meet his lips and back down, over and over as his tongue curls and licks along the length between his lips, until Kendall’s groaning and cursing, begging and pleading for Carlos to let him come, please, please, need it, please.

With a shake of his head, Carlos teases the slit then lets Kendall slip from his lips, grip tighter around the base as he says, “Uh-uh, papi, not yet.”

“Fuck, fuck, you suck,” Kendall says, trying ineffectively to get Carlos to stroke him to completion.

“Yeah, I know,” Carlos says with a wink, leaning in and brushing his lips over Kendall’s cockhead.

“Fucking tease,” Kendall breathes out, reaching down to wrap his hand around Carlos’ arm, pulling him up until he can fit his lips to Carlos’, only to pull away after a second and tug at Carlos’ shirt, an unspoken question of why the fuck is he still dressed?

Carlos laughs, a quiet sound deep in his chest, a warm gust of air against Kendall’s lips, and then he’s sitting up, pulling his shirt off and quickly discarding it.

“Better?” he asks, groaning when Kendall’s hands immediately grip his hips, fingers running up, up, up, mapping out all the delicious tan skin in front of him.

“No,” Kendall says quietly, hands flitting down to the button of Carlos’ jeans, teasing over the hard line of Carlos’ dick.

Carlos makes this sound, this choked gasp of Kendall’s name, a plea for Kendall not to fucking tease, to get on with it, to touch him with purpose, but he gets nothing out of it, only Kendall rubbing the bumps of his knuckles over him, nowhere near enough pressure for him to feel any kind of satisfaction.

Kendall flips them in a flurry of tangled arms and legs, his cock trailing a sticky wet line where it grazes against Carlos’ stomach and he can’t stop his hips from rolling into it, from seeking out more friction when he’s so close to the edge.

It’s Carlos that stops him, gripping Kendall tight, almost too tight to the point of pain instead of pleasure.

“Carlos, please,” Kendall begs, eyes locking with Carlos’.

Carlos lets his grip on Kendall fall away, quickly unbuttons his jeans and tugs down the zipper, lets Kendall manhandle him for the few seconds it takes to pull them off along with his boxers.

Kendall’s on him instantly, hands braced on either side of Carlos’ head as he rolls his hips against Carlos’, a sloppy, jerky rhythm as their cocks slide together. He knows he’s not going to last, couldn’t, even if he wanted to, too close for too long.

All it takes is Carlos, dragging a fingernail over his nipple, voice low and dirty as he says, “Dámelo, papi, por favor, papi,” and Kendall fucking loses it, entire body going rigid before he shakes and comes, hot and wet all over Carlos’ dick and stomach.

It doesn’t take much for Carlos to flip them again, Kendall loose and pliant, easy to maneuver. He slips down Kendall’s body, kisses his hip, licks over the tip of his softening cock, and then he’s leaning over the side of the bed, digging through Kendall’s backpack for the lube and a condom.

Carlos situates himself on his knees between Kendall’s legs, pops open the lube and slicks his fingers. Kendall’s chest rises and falls slowly, increasing as Carlos’ fingers trail a slow path along the crease of his thigh to the sensitive skin behind his balls, then around the pucker of his asshole.

“Okay?” he asks, smoothing his other hand over Kendall’s hip.

“Yeah,” Kendall replies softly, spreading his legs a little wider, giving Carlos the go-ahead. He’s tired, sated, but Carlos wants it, needs it, and fuck does Kendall want it too, wants to feel Carlos filling him, moving in and out of him, and god does that make his cock twitch, trying its damnedest to harden again.

With a twist of his finger, Carlos slides it in, waits for Kendall to breathe through it, then he thrusts it in and out until Kendall’s ready for another.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Kendall says, pushing down on Carlos’ fingers to get him to move, letting out a satisfied groan when Carlos does, angling them right up against his prostate.

Kendall swears, grips the sheets tight as Carlos continues to work him open, two fingers quickly becoming three.

“S’good, come on,” Kendall says, wrapping a hand around his half-hard cock.

“Okay,” Carlos says, all smug grin as he presses his fingers hard against Kendall’s prostate before slipping his fingers free, fumbling to get the condom open with his still slick fingers.

Kendall grabs it from him, sitting up as he opens it with ease. He rolls it down Carlos’ cock, squeezes at the base as he reaches for the lube, flicking open the top and quickly slicking Carlos up.

“Now,” Kendall says, laying back and planting his feet firmly on the bed.

“Alright, alright, don’t gotta tell me twice, papi,” Carlos says with a laugh, pushing Kendall’s knees up to his chest. “Hold ‘em for me?” he asks softly, almost as an afterthought.

Kendall swallows audibly, nodding as he hooks his arms around his legs, holding himself open.

Carlos lines himself up and pushes in with a fluid roll of his hips, gripping Kendall’s legs and wrapping them around his waist. He starts moving then, keeps his hands anchored on Kendall’s thighs, barely pulling out before he slides right back in, over and over until Kendall digs the heel of his foot into the small of Carlos’ back, a silent urging to get him to really fucking move.

Carlos finally does, drawing back until only the tip rests inside and then he slams in hard, pulling a loud moan from both of them.

“Fuck yes, like that,” Kendall groans, eyes nearly rolling back at the shocks of pleasure racing up his spine, but he keeps them locked on Carlos, on the way he’s biting his lip as he works his hips, the way his face and chest are flushed, the way sweat pools in the hollow of his throat.

It’s one of the best sights he’s ever had the privilege of seeing, and it’s multiplied by the fact that this is for him, something only he gets to see, and fuck if that doesn’t make him wanna come on the spot.

Carlos’ thrusts have sharpened, rough snaps of his hips in an off-beat rhythm, an almost chant-like tangle of words falling from his lips, words Kendall can’t understand, but they hit him low in his belly regardless, ripple through him over and over until his toes are curling and he can practically taste his orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, Kendall,” Carlos gasps, each word punctuated with an inward thrust, angled right at Kendall’s prostate. His movements are uncoordinated as he wraps a hand around Kendall’s cock, trying to jack him in time with his thrusts, but the feel of Kendall hot and heavy in his hand and tight all around his dick has him coming so hard he nearly falls forward, giving a few half-hearted thrusts as he rides out the last of his orgasm.

“Carlos,” Kendall whines, rolling his hips up to get Carlos to move his hand, swallowing a moan when Carlos swipes a thumb over the tip, tracing the ridge of the crown before he starts stroking in earnest, a quick flick on the upstroke and a twist as he slides his hand down.

A few sure strokes and Kendall’s coming again, head thrown back, neck bared as he swallows over and over, a broken sob of Carlos’ name dying on his lips.

The sudden tightening around his cock has Carlos hissing, too much too soon, so he’s careful sliding out, quickly removing the condom and disposing it, and then he’s crawling up the bed, lips pressing against Kendall’s, soft, sweet, slow, his hand on Kendall’s chest right over his heart, feeling the rapid thrum of it slow.

Kendall chases Carlos’ lips when he pulls away, tries to keep them pressed together for just a second longer, but Carlos rubs the tip of his nose against Kendall’s and then he slides off the bed, causing Kendall to open his eyes in confusion.

“Clean up,” Carlos says when he reappears, wet washcloth in his hand.

“Shower in the morning,” Kendall says, but he lets Carlos clean the mess of come off his stomach anyway, stretching contentedly when Carlos finally deems him clean enough.

“So,” Carlos starts when he finally curls up next to Kendall.

“What?” Kendall asks, tugging Carlos so Carlos’ back is against his chest, wrapping an arm snug around Carlos’ waist.

“Got a thing for Spanish, huh?”

“Not really,” Kendall says, shrugging his shoulders as much as his position allows. “Just have a thing for you speaking Spanish.”

“Huh. Cool,” Carlos says, laying his hand over Kendall’s and twining their fingers together.

Kendall bites down on the ‘really’ that wants to come out. He was kind of expecting Carlos to give him shit for it, maybe tease him more, but he’s more than okay with Carlos’ easy acceptance of it.

“G’night, Carlos,” Kendall says, closing his eyes as he places a soft kiss to the back of Carlos’ head.

“Buenas noches, Kendall,” Carlos says, failing to stifle the snicker that slips out.

“Carlos,” Kendall whines.

So maybe he’s not getting away with it that easily, but he’s mostly okay with that. It’s Carlos, and there’s not a thing about Carlos he’s not okay with.


End file.
